I'm Coming Home
by TheInkedCrow
Summary: The system can be a tricky thing when you're trying to make a new world. For some you'll be brought back, for others you'll be scrapped. Escaping from Hell to find his once killer, Edgar starts to think that this world never really existed. Will the system get rid of him for leaving? Will he ever find his killer?
1. In the Beginning

**Welcome to my new story, _I'm Coming_ _Home_. This story has pushed itself in front of The Past and the Present Reloaded, which I actually wrote the second chapter to. I'll post it later so enjoy this for now.**

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It was late in the afternoon. The people became busier and more agitated. This didn't stop Edgar Vargas from getting home on time. Everyday since his death his days had been the same. Wake up, get ready for the day, go to work, and come home to an empty house. The only things that changed were what outfit he was going to wear and where all the people were standing today. Things were pretty boring here, even if everything was like the Overworld.

Yes, Edgar was now in Hell. He was original supposed to go to Heaven, but the system had been so busy with their new project that they were sending people to the wrong places. Ever since the people who ran the system got bored with the world, things had become more difficult. There were fewer jobs, chairs, and people. Yes, the souls that resided in Heaven and Hell were being deleted every day. If they weren't useful enough they were gone. Edgar was safe though.

He had lived a pretty sinful life. He had outrageous parties, stole cars, worked with the mafia, killed a few people, went to jail several times and raped a girl. The last one he was forced to do so the mafia wouldn't blow his brains out. Before anything bad would happen, Edgar ran off from his home town, found in God, and tried his best to relinquish his many sins. Because of this he was to only die in a car crash. That was before his killer had come around. Edgar was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Feeling sorry for him, they were going to allow Edgar to come into Heaven, but since the system was so flipped around he ended up in Hell anyways. Now he's here, waiting to go to the place he was promised.

Edgar walked into his house, which was small and kind of run down. The walls had tacky wallpaper, the kitchen only had a fridge, a few cabinets, a table and a microwave. His room wasn't much to look at with its one window with duct tape covering it; and don't even get him started on the bathroom. Dropping his suitcase, Edgar kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie. It seemed to be getting hotter everyday. Hell did **not **welcome air conditioners. They said it would "upset the balance", or some mumbo-jumbo like that. Edgar plopped down on his oddly colored blue couch. He always thought that blue was a strange color for a couch, but he didn't bother getting a new, more normal looking couch. This one still supported his weight, and it was free.

A few hours into his channel flipping Edgar came across horror movie. It definitely wasn't a new one. Sighing, Edgar leaned back into his seat and watched the horrible, black and white movie. It's not that he hated old movies, it's just that this one seemed too unrealistic. Funny, since the movie was about a psycho killer. The movie got him thinking back to his living days, and the day he died. Rarely did he ever go back to thinking about his "friend" killing him. He had been strapped up to some strange machine that tore him apart instantly._ I envy your conviction._

Edgar opened his eyes, seeing that his movie was long over. He turned his attention to the clock hanging over his TV. 1:13 A.M. Did he fall asleep? If so, how long had he been sleeping? Edgar turned off his TV and headed into his small bedroom. What was he dreaming about again? Something about his living days, right? Yeah, something like that.

It was never dark outside. The flames of Hell kept everything looking like daytime. That explains the black duct tape on the bedroom window. Because it was so bright outside, people never knew what time it was. No wonder these people never slept. Edgar threw on some old white T-shirt and baggy, dark grey sweatpants. He took off his glasses and lay down on his bed. As tired as he was, he just couldn't sleep. Maybe the people outside were getting to him so he wouldn't sleep, like them. No, it was his dream. His dream was still bothering him, but he had no idea why. Edgar tried to think of everything else but that dream. It worked and he soon fell asleep, only to wake up a few moments later. It was him.

Edgar shot up out of bed and snatched his glasses. It's his fault he's stuck in this place. He didn't have to kill Edgar. There were tons of people in that hell hole he could have killed. He heard them all. They were all screaming, crying, and choking. Edgar didn't have to die. Not yet, at least. Heck, he didn't want to kill Edgar until... until he showed no fear. Right before he died he looked at his killer who went from enjoying the show, to regretting what he did. He had to admit, he kind of acted like an ass in the end. He told off his captor before he died. He showed no fear. Did he smirk? Possibly. Edgar raked his fingers through his hair. He didn't know whether to be mad at his killer or to be mad at himself. Either way, he was stuck in Hell until the system was fixed.

_I have nothing to fear..._


	2. Chapter 1

Three days had passed since the night he had dreamt of Johnny killing him. His voice rang through Edgar's head for hours, showing no sign that it would stop. Well, it usually would stop after Edgar would scream his head off. Today was one of those days. Today Edgar was to present his ideas for the new branch to the company that he worked for. He had five weeks to plan. He finished in three. This gave him more free time, and more time for his mind to wander. Wander to the places Edgar had locked away years ago. Given his current situation of shouting randomly, he tried to reschedule the meeting. They only laughed.

So far the meeting had run smoothly. They discussed some finance problems, what to do to regain the money and power they lost, and everyone seemed too into this. Then it was Edgar's turn.

"Mr. Vargas," The Head of Directors spoke up a few minutes after the last guy spoke his mind. "Please, tell us your ideas for our new branch."

Everyone seemed to just stare at Edgar. He could feel their eyes burning holes into him. Please don't screw this one up.

"Gladly, sir," Edgar spoke with a forced smile. He handed some papers to everyone and began his presentation. Everything he said seemed to please his co-workers, up until the middle of his explanations.

_"They're goblins, Edgar..."_

Edgar looked around frantically. Not now. People gave him a strange look, they whispered some things back and forth. Edgar smiled nervously.

"There was a fly," he said shyly. He went on with his ideas. The Head of Directors looked ticked at his weird reaction to such a small thing, which, in turn, made Edgar very uneasy.

_"Why are you wasting your time with these people?"_

"Because it's my job," Edgar spoke softly so no one would hear that part. Johnny's voice just scraped at his head in response, making Edgar feel as if his eyes were bleeding. He ignored the voice in his head and continued on. That was a bad idea. Johnny's voice grew louder and more vicious. It wanted to be heard. Edgar's right eye twitched slightly.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Vargas?" someone called out. Edgar only smiled and went on with the presentation. Johnny's voice settled down, the rest of the presentation went on as planned. Smooth and quick. Thank the Lord.

Afterwards, the Head of Directors walked up to Edgar. He looked disappointed.

"Your little act today was nowhere near funny, nor was it professional." Edgar hung his head. He was fired for sure.

"But," but? "I was quite impressed by your ideas for our new branch. Keep up the good work and you might go far," he said as he walked out of the meeting room, leaving Edgar in the room, alone. Not fired, but almost promoted. It was time to celebrate.

It had been a long time since Edgar had a drink. He was saving for one in particular. The Bomb. The Bomb was one of the strongest drinks in history. Edgar wandered over to the local bar with a dumb grin on his face.

"I'll have the Bomb, please," the bartender laughed. Apparently that drink didn't exist in Hell. Suddenly Hell actually became Hell for Edgar. Soon he walked home, hunched over and disappointed. Oh, how he missed being alive. They actually had night-time, and exotic drinks, and sometimes nice people. Hell was nothing like the world of the living.

Later that evening, Edgar was enjoying an old TV show he hadn't seen since he was a wee lad. He remember being only six. Every Saturday morning he would wake up real early just to watch this show. He remembered his mother making him a bowl of cereal to eat with his show. She always watched it with him before she went to work. Those days were always his favorite. Then the channel went fuzzy. Static rang through the crappy, worn out speakers. Edgar was pulled out of his thoughts once his brain processed what was going on around him. He glared at the TV, turned it off, and headed to bed.

"The TV stations on Earth probably show that show late at night with no chances of going to static," he thought as he got ready for bed. He'd still be alive if that stupid psycho didn't kill him. These days Edgar blamed Johnny for the many flaws in Hell, even though he wasn't dead. The lightbulb burned out; Johnny did that. The car broke down; Johnny's fault. The day Edgar gets fired, if that ever happens, Edgar would rise from the dead, find Johnny, and shove that jerk's head into his grave. Then he would drag him down to Hell and eat his brains. It would be a glorious day for all, Edgar would remind himself. Half of the people down here must have been Johnny's old victims. They would enjoy such a brain-eating show. Edgar slept peacefully that night.

~X~

Word had spread quickly around the office . The Head of Directors was erased late last night. Edgar's hopes for his promotion had crumbled down along with the value of the company. No one could ever replace that man, people kept saying. No one knew his last name. Throughout the day people were being laid off. Without a lot of money, the company had to get rid of many of their employees. Edgar doubted they would get rid of him, though. He was a good employee. He kept his workspace tidy, he excelled in his work, and he was always ahead of everyone. This company would die without him. Mr. Sánchez stopped by Edgar's office.

"You're fired."


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: I own no characters from the comic. Lately I've been inspired by Let Go by Frou Frou. Now don't tell me you don't imagine Edgar and Nny when you hear that song! It might just be me though...**

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The world seemed colder and darker than Edgar remembered after he was fired. Nothing was the same after he packed his last possession away from his office. Once everything was cleared out, the doors from the exit way of his once job shut behind him for the last time. Edgar finally lost it. It was around mid-night when Edgar had finally gotten home. Traffic just had to be horrible today. He originally just wanted to walk down to the bookstore that was a few blocks from his house to see if any new books had come in, but the store had been shut down. Maybe a coffee would calm his nerves, he thought. The machines were all busted. Okay, so maybe he could drink his brains out. The bar was closed off with police tape.

Edgar tossed his stuff at his old TV, which resulted in glass being scattered through the air. The shards of screen littered the carpet. He flipped his table in the kitchen, then stepped into his room stabbed his fist through one of his bedroom walls. Blood seeped from the new hole in the wall. What was he doing? Edgar sat on his bed and stared at his hand. Blood poured, and dripped on the hard, wooden floor, staining it a dark red. Blood... This wasn't his fault. It wasn't the system's fault. No, it was Johnny's fault. It was always that maniac's fault! Edgar kicked his nightstand over and held his head with his good hand.

"Idiot," Edgar hissed as he glared at his still bleeding hand. "My hand is gushing with blood, and I'm doing nothing for it..."

After bandaging up his hand, Edgar wandered over to the window in his room. He picked at the tape covering the glass for a good two minutes until the black substance started to peel off. He had never seen what was outside of this window before. With one tug he ripped off all the duct tape. A blinding light shined right at Edgar's eyes. Take a step back, blink the spots away, now adjust to that blazing light.

The flames of Hell really were blindingly bright. Once he got used to the light, Edgar looked around the city, only there was no city. There were only huge rocks and a looming cliff. The flames of Hell were nowhere in sight, which was odd. He was right on the edge of the city. For a moment Edgar didn't know where he was. Boy, was it hot. It was always hot. Sighing, Edgar closed his eyes. Suddenly everything felt cool, more welcoming. The light had dimmed down. It almost felt like winter. When he opened his eyes everything didn't look hellish anymore. The rocks and cliff were covered in snow. His eyes roamed up to the sky where a huge moon lay in the darkness that was night-time, a white ring accompanying it by lining the sky. It was surrounded by small lights, stars to be exact, and a few light, fluffy grey clouds. It was like how it was back on Earth. His favorite season. He could feel the bone chilling wind blow through his hair. It felt so refreshing. Edgar placed a hand on the glass. As soon as he did the heat from Hell roared at his body, it got blindingly bright again, and the moon turned into a giant eyeball. Way to scare a guy.

What was left for Edgar now? He had no job, no friends, no family, and pretty soon he'd have no home. He was lucky enough to get a job when he first arrived in Hell. It took years to get just an interview. Nothing like waiting five to ten years for a job you may never even get. Besides, someone could have gotten the job right before you even got a chance to book an interview. You'd still be waiting there though. Waiting for the next opening, no matter what. You needed money to live. Money was something that was always hard to get. Everything here had been made to be too stressful. It was getting to Edgar. He was making this is own Hell now.

"I wish I could just go home. Heaven isn't worth living here," Edgar turned from the window. Then something interesting had caught his eyes. He quickly looked back out the window. A tunnel. In the cliff side. An escape possibly? Most likely. Edgar smirked a bit.

"That's probably a way for people to transport from Hell and back to Earth. No one seems to be guarding it, too," Edgar said aloud, like he was explaining this amazing thing to a friend in the room, but that didn't matter. He could finally escape this place. No, he wasn't going to blame Johnny for this miracle, even if that tunnel was a magnificent flaw in a way. Edgar quickly grabbed a backpack and filled it with some of his important possessions. He doubted that Hell would allow him to bring this stuff to Earth. Wait.

"If that's a path only for people who are granted second chances, won't they find out I'm not supposed to be there? I'm sure they have scanners or something in that tunnel."

The mission was over. No escape if they could find out Edgar was running away. No second chance... unless... Unless he could figure out how to sneak out without anything even noticing his escape.

**MEANWHILE**

Spring always brought out the worst of Johnny's allergies. It was horrible. Pollen would blow in from the boarded windows and would fly all around the house. Sure, not cleaning up the place helped with this vile season, but that was no excuse for Johnny to hate spring. The only thing that he liked was that more people were taking vacations, so there were fewer people around the city and around his home. He'd still get the occasional telemarketer, but they didn't come as often as usual. Unfortunately, this was only during "Spring Break". Spring was a horrible season.

_You should learn to embrace the colors of the newly grown flowers._

Why should he even bother? Flowers smelled weird anyway. Johnny was also trying to avoid as many bright colors as possible nowadays. Bright colors made you feel. Feeling was for the weak. Flowers made everyone weak. They also did not help with his allergies. If he sneezed one more time...

_Why not go outside, get some nice fresh air and some color? You're like a ghost._

He didn't need fresh air, and maybe he liked looking this pale. It made it easier to scare people looking like this. He had to entertain his "guests" somehow. Meat's suggestions were pointless. Johnny could find every way around his suggestions to make him feel. It had become easy. Too easy. It seemed that the only thing that really gave Johnny any excitement was when he'd have arguments with Meat. But now, now it was just too boring. He didn't have any challenges now.

_Maybe that nice Edgar guy will convince you to leave._

Edgar? Did he know such a person by that name? So many victims. The name did ring a bell. He was pretty sure though that he killed this Edgar fellow a long time ago. How long had it been? He never was good at keeping time. There was no point. Edgar... Edgar... His last name started with a V, Johnny recalled. He was strapped to that one machine he never used afterwards. The blood from its last victim had made the gears stick together. What a shame. It got the job done just right. He remembered a man with glasses being strapped into the machine. He wasn't a bad man. If anything, Johnny didn't want to kill him, but the circumstances during the time said otherwise. He had to die. He needed the blood. Edgar couldn't possibly convince Johnny to do anything. He was a dead man, and has been for years now. Unless he was a ghost, which he doubted.

_He'll come back one day. Come back for you._

Johnny sat up on the couch he was laying on. He wore a disturbed expression. He looked at the little fat statue that was on top of the TV.

"Coming back... for me?"


End file.
